


Further is Forever, Restless Til' the Day We Die

by AStarlightMonbebe



Series: Sleeping just to numb the pain [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 00 line - Freeform, Angst, Extended Metaphors, Friendship, I wrote this at night again :/, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lost boys and neverland references, Neverland, Platonic Relationships, RIP, stars and the sky, sun and moon, there's no fluff only angst, two part one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStarlightMonbebe/pseuds/AStarlightMonbebe
Summary: Jisung was the moon and Felix was the sun, and together they shone brighter than anything else.





	Further is Forever, Restless Til' the Day We Die

**Author's Note:**

> So...I wrote something again. It's another pile of angst and depressing stuff cause why not. 
> 
> Hmm...it's not really connected to Will We Ever Find Our Neverland?, but it's kind of like in another universe? Sort of? Ahhh...it's hard to explain.
> 
> Anyways I was feeling really metaphorical and all that stuff and I wrote this :). 00' line and me...idk I just love writing them.
> 
> Make sure to read the tags before you read this !!!!

**_I._ **

_ ‘ Never say goodbye, because saying goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting. ’ _

 

Felix and Jisung were born a day apart, mere hours from one another, on different continents.  They were like the sun and the moon, so close to each other, yet always just missing one another.  The only time they met was when eclipses happened, the sun and the moon together outshining any other star. 

Jisung hadn’t been expecting an eclipse to happen anytime soon, but when a boy with dark hair and freckles spattered like stars across his cheeks moved in next door, when they were both only seven years old, it was like the universes had collided.  It was raining, his elbow was bleeding from when he had tripped on the driveway and smacked down hard on the pavement, and his shoes had holes in them, but in that moment, Felix had smiled and waved, and Jisung had smiled in return, just a little bit. 

Together, Felix and Jisung had been brighter than anything else.

 

After that, they grew up together, halves that fit together.  Jisung liked blue and Felix liked red; Jisung only ate jelly and Felix only liked the peanut butter, so they peeled apart their sandwiches and ate them that way.  They pierced their ears for their thirteenth birthdays, laughing through the pain as they picked out earrings for each other-in the end, they both picked out the same pair, putting them in each other’s ears.

It was Jisung who convinced Felix to dye his hair when all Felix had wanted to do was shave it all off, until there was nothing left.  He turned the memories into an adventure, running through the drugstore shelves as Jisung pulled off color after color, holding them up to Felix’s face and giggling before finally deciding on a bright orange.  Jisung had always been able to turn Felix’s bad days into happy memories, always running and moving and doing reckless things that made both of them shriek and scream and laugh, clutching their sides.

Felix had fallen in love with his blonde orange hair, maybe because Jisung had chosen the color for him, spending hours following the directions down to every word.  They had sat on the bathroom floor, the cold dye dripping from Felix’s bangs as Jisung insisted he knew what he was doing, all the while squinting at the box, chewing his lip nervously.  Felix would have called him out on it if he also hadn’t been filled with a giddy excitement of what it would turn out to in the end. 

Jisung had looked at his hair proudly, even though there was streaks of dark brown near the roots, and the next day he had called Felix over by leaning out his window and waving his arms wildly.  They had spent that night turning Jisung’s hair light pink and purple, even as Jisung stressed about all his hair falling out and Felix insisting that it wouldn’t from just one dye job. 

He had looked great, of course, smiling hesitantly at his new self in the mirror.  They had ruined the bathroom floor tiles, now shaded in pink and orange in some spots, but Jisung declared that it looked prettier than plain white anyways.  He had seen the beauty in everything, even in Hyunjin and Seungmin, broken boys with scars on their arms and faces that never smiled.

 

Things were carefree when they were young, because when you were kids you tripped and fell, but you always stood right back off and brushed off the small scrapes you had gotten, running after your friends with gap toothed smiles and messy hair and grass stained pants.  They had colored and swapped silly bands and exchanged sour patch kids for milk duds, trading cards and playing board games, lost in their own little worlds to notice the one happening around them.

Felix had grown up into neat clothes and student class president and good grades, a bright and charming smile and an Australian accent when he talked.  He had grown up into soccer and socialility, the person you high fived in the hallways even if you had only met once in your years together. Jisung, on the other hand, had grown up and never left behind the messy hair and the ripped knees of his clothes.  He had become a little taller, but had curled inward a little smaller, happy and devilish on the outside, quiet on the inside.

They had learned different skills, Felix how to talk about meaningless things with adults he got bored of easily, how to speak and make people listen, how to strategize and find people’s weaknesses and tear them down.  Jisung had learned how to skateboard and write lyrics, how to put on his headphones and drown everything else out, how to tiptoe so that the floorboards didn’t creak.

Maybe they grew apart, like every pair of people eventually did, slowly circling away from each other.  Felix made friends with Chan and Minho and Woojin, and Jisung brought home Hyunjin and Seungmin, as if daring Felix to say anything when he let them into the group that had just been two.  They had fought about that later, because Felix had heard things he didn’t like and Jisung had asked him why he believed everyone else instead of Jisung himself. 

In their seven years together, they had never really fought, not once, and Jisung had ended up crying, sniffling quietly, and Felix could only stand across from him and wonder what had changed.  He had used to know everything about Jisung, what he was feeling, but somewhere in the time when Felix had been away more and more, Jisung had closed himself off without him noticing.

On their birthdays, Hyunjin and Seungmin had been there, and neither had acknowledged the change, just let it happen.  That was the one thing they had left, the shared days where they stayed up till midnight on the fourteenth and watching the clock just as it clicked to the fifteenth, the one moment they shared together.  They turned fifteen together, Jisung’s head on Felix’s shoulders as they pulled the blanket up to their chins, and Felix had messed with Jisung’s hair, which he had dyed back to brown, even though they had both decided to let their first dyes grow out naturally.

Felix didn’t want to think about what that might mean, so he decided to not say anything, too afraid of what Jisung’s answer would be, or what it wouldn’t be, more specifically.

 

It was in winter, a couple months after their last birthday together, that Jisung had asked Felix if he knew the story of Peter Pan.  “Of course.” Felix had told him, laughing. “That was my favorite Disney when I was a kid.” Jisung lifted his head off the pillow he was lying on, looking at him.  They were in Felix’s room, Jisung spread out on his sleeping bag and Felix sitting cross legged on the bed.

“Really?”  He asked, and Felix nodded, passing him the pink nail polish.  It had been Jisung’s idea to paint their nails when he had discovered that Felix had a small collection, ones that he had never used, ones his mom had given him even when Felix had insisted he didn’t want them.  

Jisung was painting his nails in shades of blues and pinks and purples, sparkly and glittery, and Felix was just using white and black, hoping the remover worked if he regretted it in the morning.  “My mom used to tell the story to me when I was a little kid.” Jisung added, stopping his painting for a moment. “I think it was mostly to make me keep my window closed at night, because I would always open it and stick my head out just to feel the breeze.  It didn’t really work, since the thought that there were boys and fairies and pirates flying around just outside made me want to open it even more.”

Felix laughed, then asked; “Why are you bringing that up, though?”  Jisung finished painting his last nail, blowing on it. There was a thoughtful, far off distant expression in his eyes.  “Just...Neverland is a cool place. I would want to go there. I mean, think about it. A place full of magic, however you want it to be.  Far away from everything else, just you and I. Wouldn’t you like to be a lost boy, Lix?”

Smile fading, Felix looked down at his friend.  “What are you talking about?” He finally said, and Jisung laughed a little, capping his nail polish and tossing it back.  Felix barely managed to catch it. “Imagine never growing old, Lix. When we turned sixteen...even before we turned sixteen, we could run away, go and make our own Neverland away from everything else, just the two of us.  We could be lost boys, and there would be nobody telling us how and when to grow up.”

“I don’t know.”  Felix finally said, feeling vaguely unsettled by how serious Jisung’s expression was.  “We’re already growing up, it’s practically inevitable.” “Practically doesn’t mean it can’t be stopped.”  Jisung pointed out, eyes gleaming, and Felix shrugged, putting away the bottles. 

“Want to watch a movie?”  He asked, and Jisung nodded, said ‘sure’, and Felix was sure that by the time the movie was done, he had forgotten all about it.

 

When they were eight, they had gotten lost.  Jisung had been excited and hyper, wanting to run and run until they were even more lost, but Felix had cried before he had decided that he was going to figure out a way to get them home.  Even if Jisung had wanted to stay out, he had gone back with Felix because they were friends, and it had made Felix feel a little better. 

Maybe because Felix had made Jisung stay once, he had only managed to cling on a little longer.  The moon could try and stay in the sky while the sun rose, but it eventually faded out, forced back into darkness.  And while Felix had thought the idea had faded from Jisung’s mind, it hadn’t.

He would keep talking about it, talking about running away to Neverland and being losts boys until Felix started to become afraid.  He wanted to ask what was making Jisung talk like this, why only now was this happening, but Felix had always been a coward, and he was afraid of what Jisung would say.  He was afraid that Jisung would confirm the things Felix had seen-scars on his arms that matched Hyunjin’s and bruises on his back shaped like boots, tired eyes and hands that shook like Seungmin’s. 

So he kept quiet and he laughed and took it like a joke, and eventually Jisung stopped talking about it, only mentioning it offhandedly.  Felix didn’t notice that his friend had almost stopped talking altogether, curling up more and more while Felix grew up and away. 

 

Their last fight was in March, two days before, and it had been night, Jisung sending Felix a text.  Felix had walked outside to see Jisung standing on the curb between their houses, a wavering form in the light of the streetlamp.  Felix hadn’t needed to walk closer to know that he was hurt, he could tell from how Jisung’s shoulders were hunched, one arm pressed over his eyes.

Felix had come and stood next to him, avoiding looking directly at him because of the ugly bruises spreading across his face.  He hadn’t asked how he got them. He had never asked; always too scared that one day Jisung might actually tell him instead of lying with a smile, and Felix would have to carry the information with him, another burden.  He should have asked, at least once, Felix should have asked. 

“I’m going to go.”  Jisung had finally said after crying for a few minutes, voice muffled by the sleeve of his shirt.  “Already?” Felix asked, not understanding until Jisung had turned and made eye contact with him. “To Neverland.  I don’t need anything, I’ll just run and see how far I go.” There was something manic gleaming behind the sadness and hurt in his eyes, and Felix swallowed.

“You can’t.”  He finally said, swallowing and breaking their gazes, turning to look at the wet pavement.  “I know you think it’ll just be another big adventure, like all the ones we had when we were kids.  I’m grateful that you made every bad day into a good one with those adventures and your crazy ideas, but there comes a time when you need to stop playing games, Sungie.”  He hadn’t called Jisung Sungie in years, even if Jisung had kept on calling him Lix, even though Felix had told him to stop many times. 

Jisung remained silent, and Felix continued, feeling braver now that he wasn’t looking at the bruises and the red eyes.  “We’re not seven anymore. It’s not okay to keep acting like a child and run away whenever you want to. You should have stopped long ago, but you’re still stuck in your seven year old mind.  You need to grow up, Jisung.” 

“Grow up.”  Jisung repeated in a flat voice, and Felix could feel himself tensing.  “Grow up?!” Jisung yelled, and Felix flinched at how loud it was, echoing in the streets.  “Look at me, Felix!” Felix turned away. “Look at me!” Jisung repeated, and Felix slowly lifted his head, as Jisung gestured to himself.

“I’m covered in bruises, Lix.”  He said, voice softer but still hurtful.  “I’ve been coming to school and your house covered in bruises since I was ten, and you never said anything.  You never asked, not once. Are you that much of a coward, Lix?” The use of Felix’s nickname was like another knife driven into his heart.  “You’re talking about growing up, but I have nothing to grow up to. I don’t have anything waiting for me, I just have you. You’re all I’ve ever had!”

“Sure, I talk about Peter Pan and Neverland a lot, but that’s because this is the only reality I’ve got.  It’s easy to believe in one if you’re a kid with parents who love you and feed you and actually give a crap, but for me it wasn’t just a fairytale.  It was a real place for me, somewhere I could go and be saved and never have to grow up into a world more horrible than the one I’m living in.” 

Jisung was breathing heavily, and Felix was still staring at him and his bruises, how skinny Jisung was, and for once Felix saw him as a boy made of skin and bones, drawn with pencil and colored in with blue and black crayons.  He turned around and left, not bothering to look back, knowing Jisung would still be standing there.

 

The next morning, there was an note from Jisung in his backpack after first period, a folded cube of paper.  Felix unfolded one of the corners, saw the word sorry, and he threw it in the trash without bothering to see what was underneath the apology.  It had snowed overnight, a late snow that left inches upon inches floating to the ground, fluffy piles of snow.

Felix remembered thinking that it was beautiful, remembering how he and Jisung had used to play in them when they were kids, despite Jisung not having proper winter clothes.  They would throw snowballs and lay in the snow, making snow angels, then trampling through them. He smiled at the memory, a perfect bubble of happiness.

Jisung wasn’t in school, but Felix didn’t let himself worry, knowing that Jisung usually took days off so his bruises could fade.  It wasn’t until Felix got home from school to Jisung’s mother sitting on his front steps, asking him if he had seen her baby boy, that Felix remembered the note and Jisung telling him that he was going to Neverland.

Felix ran, and then he searched through the trash for hours, but he couldn’t find the note, no matter how much he looked.  It eluded him, just like the moon did to the sun, disappearing before they could touch. The sun had always been brighter and bigger than the moon, taking up space, the one everyone noticed.  Maybe the moon had gotten lonely like that, going unnoticed. 

His phone rang.  It was Hyunjin.

 

The first thing Felix saw was caution tape and police cars, and the second thing he noticed was that the snow was red, an almost vague realization, like he was observing it from far away.  Hyunjin was on his knees, sobbing, the sleeves of his sweater stained red, and Felix shoved past officers and people, until he was in front of him. Someone was screaming, and Felix realized it was him, asking Hyunjin  _ why he was lying, stop lying! _

Hyunjin gave him the note, the one he had found that Felix had thrown away, and Felix ripped it open, tearing it in half and scrambling to find the pieces.  It said sorry, scrawled in Jisung’s loopy handwriting with a smiley face and a heart. Underneath,  _ I am a lost boy, from Neverland.   _ Felix ripped it to shreds, ripping it until there was nothing left and his fingers were bloody, dripping onto the white snow.

 

Jisung had seen the beauty in everything, and so, in a twisted way, it made sense that he looked most beautiful when he was dead, lying like a fallen angel on the snow, surrounded by a halo of red.  He had finally gone to his fabled Neverland, a place where he would never have to grow up, a place where he could be the lost boy he had always wanted to be.

Felix should have gone with him.  He should have listened to Jisung’s ramblings.  He should have asked, instead of telling Jisung to grow up.

 

In the end, Jisung was the moon and Felix was the sun, and though they shone brighter together, they were always fated to end up apart.

 

_**II.** _ __

_ ‘ Second star to the right and straight on till morning. ’ _

 

Seungmin and Hyunjin had been through hell together.  It had started when they were thirteen and on the edge of a bridge, Hyunjin asking Seungmin if he could see the faint stars winking in the darkness, pointing out the second star to the right and telling them that was how to get to Neverland.  Seungmin hadn’t listened then, but it was the one thing he remembered later on.

Hyunjin was the stars to Seungmin’s inky blackness, bright and twinkling.  When they were fourteen, Hyunjin had given him glow in the dark stars for his birthday, a packet they had stuck on the ceiling of Seungmin’s trailer together.  They had lain on his bed together, heads touching, watching them glow in the semi darkness, and Seungmin spent the rest of his nights like that, laying on his bed and staring at the stars, reminding himself of why he opened his eyes in the morning.  

Seungmin was the boy who came to school with bruises under his shirt and tired eyes, hands shaking when he held a pencil from him being unable to relax, curled up under his thin blankets.  Hyunjin was the boy who everyone had something to say about, a different rumor every week, but underneath he had scars up and down his arms, shattered mirrors in his room, deleted social media apps.  

People said whatever they wanted to, simply because they never bothered to think about how others felt.  Seungmin, on the other hand, had grown up empathetic, despite not thinking he would get the chance to grow up at all.  Maybe that's why he had listened when Hyunjin had told him about the second star to the right instead of calling the police-despite knowing that he would have to say why he was there too.  Because he had felt a connection to Hyunjin and all his flaws, all his scars, hidden under cheap makeup and jewelry. 

He had used to be a boy with a bright smile and good grades, clean clothes and neat hair, but Seungmin seemed to have grown in reverse.  Most people said you got that as you got older, but Seungmin had lost it all instead, hair growing out and clothes becoming torn, grades dropping lower and never coming back up, smile fading.

Hyunjin seemed like the opposite, growing up into money and rich clothes and an uncaring attitude, a far stretch from the boy who had run through rivers without knowing how deep they were, not caring if he got soaked through from slipping and falling.  Hyunjin was that boy, but he was also the one that had sat on Seungmin’s bed and told him he had stopped smiling when people started telling him he looked fake when he did it.

People said two years of time was nothing compared to friendships that started when they were five and lasted until they died, but the two years Seungmin had with Hyunjin were his everything.

 

The summer after Hyunjin had turned thirteen and a month before Seungmin would, two months after the bridge, they went and got ice cream.  Seungmin’s favorite flavor was mint chocolate chip, but Hyunjin had shyly admitted that he had never had ice cream before. Seungmin had given him just vanilla, and Hyunjin had stared at the cone for the longest time, even as it dripped down onto his fingers.

“You have to eat it, silly.  If you keep staring at it, it’ll melt.”  Seungmin finally told him, giggling as Hyunjin looked up at him in surprise.  It was a day where Hyunjin was in sweatpants and a long sleeved white shirt, despite it being hot outside.  Seungmin was glad he wasn’t in anything fancy though, not like the silk shirts and dress pants he was usually wearing.

Seungmin understood covering your skin; it was what he did every day when he shrugged on a jacket in one hundred degree weather.  Hyunjin had tentatively taken a bite, then he had smiled widely, taking another one. Seungmin stopped eating to watch him eat, because Hyunjin looked so  _ happy  _ when he did it, like it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

He revisited that memory a lot too, because Hyunjin had stopped being happy shortly after, only smiling for Seungmin and Seungmin only.  But Seungmin remembered the sunlight warming their backs, a light breeze making the heat not unbearable, music playing from Hyunjin’s phone.  Seungmin could recommend the exact song as well-his memory was as close to photographic as you could get.

Vineyard, by Oohyo.  A song as beautiful and broken as Hyunjin was, filled with things unsaid.  Hyunjin was something unsaid, Seungmin thought, the words you couldn’t put onto paper or out into existence, just bottled up.  What you couldn’t quite grasp and say, what you searched for and never found. 

Seungmin, on the other hand, could never say everything he needed to, always too much overflowing onto anywhere he could put it.  While Hyunjin could never find the words to say what he needed because there was never anything to describe what he was feeling, Seungmin could never find the words because there were simply too many of them.  Hyunjin was the space where Seungmin could put all the words he didn’t need at the time, and Hyunjin would always give them back when they were needed, because he would never use them.

He was a puzzle, but Seungmin liked solving puzzles.  In fact, he was quite good at it.

 

When they met Jisung, Seungmin could see how something just clicked for Hyunjin.  Jisung was someone who loved Hyunjin’s second star to the right as much as Hyunjin did, and they would trade stories about their Neverlands and being lost boys.  Seungmin wasn’t dumb; he knew that eventually Hyunjin and Jisung’s stories would become dangerous, but it made Hyunjin’s eyes brighter when he talked about it.

Seungmin was a reader.  He had grown up in a library surrounded by books, reading whatever he could, because it was easy to hide behind a book, in the corner of the living room, even as his hand would shake as he turned the page.  He knew what it was like to lose yourself in stories, to let yourself get carried to another world where you could be brave and outspoken and loved. A place where you could be anything you wanted to be.

Hyunjin was a lost boy who hadn’t learned to fly yet, stuck on the ground, looking up at the night sky and wishing he could join it.  That was why he liked bridges so much, he had told Seungmin. Because it got him a little closer to the sky, a little closer to learning how to fly if he just tried.

There was something about Hyunjin that scared Seungmin, but it only made him want to stay closer to the only person he let himself call a friend, to protect him, to make sure that one day Hyunjin didn’t jump to see if he would fly.  Seungmin sometimes dreamed of that, and, even though, if he was alone and without Hyunjin, he might be considering the same thing, he would never let that happen to Hyunjin. 

 

On Hyunjin’s fifteenth birthday, he showed up on Seungmin’s doorstep with bleeding arms, sobbing.  “Don’t take me to the hospital. Save me. I know you can.” He had said, and Seungmin had been shaking even more than usual, but he had taken Hyunjin in past beer bottles and trash, knowing that even if Hyunjin noticed through his haze, he wouldn’t care.  His life might look perfect, while Seungmin’s looked like the inside of a dumpster, but underneath it was all the same.

He wrapped Hyunjin’s wrists and cleaned them with rubbing balls and whatever he could remember from Google searches.  Hyunjin couldn’t stop shaking, even more than Seungmin. Some kids asked Seungmin if he shook because he took drugs or alcohol, but Seungmin shook because he was always scared, always flinching, and he wasn’t used to not doing it.  It was almost like a gut impulse.

When Seungmin was a kid, he had gotten into a car crash.  It was a small one, just a collision, but it had left him shaken to a car.  He could still remember what it felt like, slamming back in his seat hard enough to almost bite his tongue, the tangy taste of blood filling his mouth.  Thinking he was going to die but not, watching the world collide in fire and metal all around him. 

The feeling remained with Seungmin as he grew up, the feeling off sitting in his seat and trembling, the seat belt stuck and keeping him chained in, unable to move.  When he bandaged Hyunjin, he was surprisingly still, though, and Hyunjin commented on this wryly, saying that Seungmin should have been more scared than usual.

“You’re the one who should be scared.  Do you want to die that much?” Seungmin had asked, and the fact that Hyunjin hadn’t answered spoke for itself.  A part of Seungmin was glad that he hadn’t, because he didn’t want to hear Hyunjin say that he did, that he really did, that he wanted to so badly.  He didn’t want Hyunjin to admit that there was really no reason why he hadn’t. 

Hyunjin was Seungmin’s reason, and Seungmin wanted to be Hyunjin’s, but he wasn’t sure if he would ever be worth that much to Hyunjin.

 

Seungmin and Hyunjin were galaxies, far more wide and vast than anyone could ever guess.  Hyunjin was spinning blues and silvers; Seungmin was purples and blacks. They sparkled, but nobody else could see it, because they existed on another plane than everyone else.  

They clung to each other because there was nothing left-Hyunjin hugging Seungmin under the glow in the dark stars when it hurt too much for Seungmin to move.  When his body hurt that much, it still shook, and sometimes Seungmin hated it so much that he wished he hadn’t been born. Hyunjin would whisper everything he could never say out loud into Seungmin’s ear, no matter how painful or horrible, and Seungmin would cry because what hurt Hyunjin hurt him too.

He wasn’t joking when he said they had been through hell.  They had, each on their own, and then some of it together. Seungmin’s personal one was his trash of a trailer and his paralyzed father, a mother who had died in the car crash that had left both of them like this.  They lived off disability checks, and even then they didn’t really live.

Hyunjin’s was his magazine cover home life and then the scars he hid underneath the expensive clothes.  His was the sadness that took away his soul bit by bit, the urge to fly and get lost in his head because it was one hundred times better than the one he was in.  He and Jisung were so alike that it scared Seungmin, because they were both dangerous under the mask of quiet and lopsided smiles. He was bridges and high tops and second stars to the right.  

It was their ritual, finding it.  Whenever they spent nights together, which was often, because being apart was unbearable.  Hyunjin was the one who said it first. “If I’m alone, I think too much, and I get scared of myself.”  Seungmin knew he wasn’t saying that he needed Seungmin, but he told Hyunjin to come over whenever he needed to anyways.  He knew what it was like to be scared of your own mind and body, he lived with it every day.

“Second star to the right and onto Neverland.”  Hyunjin would murmur sleepily, and Seungmin would nod and half laugh.  “You forgot the part about going straight.” He always added, and Hyunjin would scoff.  “It’s the star that’s special, not going straight.” He would respond, and Seungmin couldn’t exactly argue with that.

Hyunjin started talking about his star more and more, about being a lost boy and going to Neverland, and it made Seungmin nervous, but he was too much of a wreck to act on his worries.

 

Then Jisung died and Seungmin saw that the heck they had been going through was only the very beginning.  Hyunjin was distant and quiet and hidden, and he kept Jisung’s note on him, rubbing his fingers over the already worn paper over and over again.  Seungmin could see it falling apart in almost slow motion, just like the car crash when he was ten years old.

“Do you think he’s happy?”  Hyunjin asked once. “In Neverland.”  Seungmin shrugged. “Would you be happy if you never got to grow up with the people you loved?”  Hyunjin had smiled bitterly. “I don’t love anyone, Seungmin, and nobody loves me.” Seungmin had just hummed under his breath and pretended it didn’t hurt, even though it did.  It hurt a lot.

“Second star to the right.”  Hyunjin pointed out, as they leaned against the railing off the bridge from when they were thirteen.  Seungmin smiled, but he didn’t feel the same spark as he had used to. Instead, he just remembered Jisung, and he reached over and took Hyunjin’s hand.  Hyunjin looked over at him curiously, eyes half on the star and half on him. Seungmin could never compete with what that star meant to Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin, promise me you’ll never go to Neverland.”  Seungmin whispered, and Hyunjin smiled the half smile he did-the one that wasn’t quite real because his smiles had never really been anything real-and whispered;  “I promise.”

 

Hyunjin broke his promise.  They were sixteen and Seungmin opened his eyes to the fading glow of the stars scattered across his ceiling and a piece of paper beside him instead of Hyunjin.  He didn’t have to read it to know what it said, to know it would say;  _ I’m going to the second star to the right, then straight on from there.  Maybe I’ll make it to Neverland. Maybe, one day, we can meet there.  _

His first instinct was to get up and search, to run until he couldn’t breathe and collapse, to scream Hyunjin’s name over and over again.  But Seungmin knew, that even if he ran and ran, he would never find Hyunjin. He was already gone.

 

Stars couldn’t shine without darkness.  Hyunjin had never needed Seungmin, but he was all Seungmin had ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone asks, what happened to Hyunjin is up to interpretation. (Because I'm evil like that uwuwuwuwuwu)
> 
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> 
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> ^just to leave it out there if you want ^^


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